Made For Me
by Legs
Summary: Rosalie swallowed and tried to focus on what Emmett was saying to her. Her mind wandered again and again to his words, replaying them like an off-kilter phonograph. I killed her, Rosalie. I killed her. I killed her, Rosalie. I killed her...R
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight Series is the exclusive creative property of Stephenie Meyer. I do not own any rights to it. This is a fan-based creation. **_

_**Author's Note: So color me surprised when I tried to start a new story about Edward and Bella and I couldn't get Rosalie and Emmett out of my mind. My deepest apologies to anyone who is still waiting for "Hush-A-Bye, Baby." I needed to write this first to make some room in my head. This is the unanticipated sequel to "Made For You." However, you do not have to read "Made For You" to follow this story. To my faithful readers, thank you for your patience. The first few pages of this chapter are from the epilogue of "Made For You." Bear with me. I want to catch everyone else up. To any new readers, thank you for giving this a chance. Please drop a review and let me know what you think. **_

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"_As for me, to love you alone…this is my destiny and the meaning of my life__."_

_-Napoleon Bonaparte_

_Spring of 1935, Smoky Mountains, Tennessee_

Rosalie breathed in deeply of the pine forest air, her red mouth twisting in self-satisfaction. It was the farthest she had come in this direction, alone, at least. Nearly seven hundred miles, she guessed, dropping from a high branch to the dark forest floor. Through the gloom of early morning fog, edges of light were just beginning to appear. Like twilight in reverse.

The familiar sound of warm blood pumping made her muscles tense. She inhaled carefully. With the new nature park so close, humans could be nearby. The smell was confusing. It was definitely an animal, something large, predatory…definitely a meat-eater. But there was a different scent, sweeter, more exposed. Rosalie fought against the now familiar burning in her throat. _That_ was _not_ an animal. Automatically now, she stopped breathing and focused on controlling herself. Small movements, small thoughts. She tried desperately not to imagine what must be waiting down in the ravine. _Some wounded human, probably cornered by a mountain lion. Someone who would die, anyway. No, she must not think things like that._ It only made the burning more unbearable. _And she could not feed. She would not feed._ Suddenly the smoky morning air seemed ominous, not crisp and inviting as it had been before.

With every ounce of strength she possessed, Rosalie turned away from the mouthwatering scent and forced herself to run in the opposite direction. If she focused only on the ground ahead of her, at the curving branches reaching down to meet her as she flew by them, she might be far enough away before she lost her willpower.

But just as relief poured over, a weak, strangled cry came from behind her, stopping her in her tracks. She stood, frozen, afraid to turn around and face the noise and the smell. For a moment all was quiet and still and Rosalie wondered if she had dreamt the sound into existence. Another second and the cry came again, a little stronger, a little more insistent.

In agony, Rosalie turned and started slowly towards the edge of the precipice, her hands clenched in fists. Whoever he or she was down there…they might not live through this. But she couldn't ignore the noise or the smell or the sadness in knowing they were alone and dying.

She would stop the animal, chase it off, kill it, whatever. And then she would run, as fast as her legs could carry her and hope against hope that she could escape the temptation. It was foolish to attempt and still she walked forward, picking her way through the heavy undergrowth, nearing a faint trickling of water that became a stream only a few miles south.

There was a heavy panting and a soft, whimpering noise. She could hear the beast now, baying, snarling, its thick snout raised in a triumphant roar. The bear stood on all fours, its back to her.

Coiling to spring, Rosalie set her shoulders and leapt. She threw her arms around the creature's enormous neck. The grizzly growled in surprise and reached a large, clumsy paw out to bat her off.

Hissing, she sank her teeth deep into its neck.

The bear yelped and stumbled once.

Rosalie clung to the animal, keeping her mouth firmly at its jugular vein, half in hopes of killing it and half to keep herself from focusing too much on the stronger scent, the free flowing blood of the human. She wrapped a slender arm around the bear's throat and pulled it into the crook of her elbow, squeezing as hard as she could.

It roared again, furiously, and shook her off.

Rosalie flew through the air, her body making a loud cracking sound against an old oak tree. She landed and crouched, baring her teeth at the bear before jumping again and throwing it to the ground. She found herself face to face with the largest set of teeth she had ever seen, foaming saliva dripping from the corners of its mouth.

For the tiniest second, she wondered if she should feel afraid. Vampires were undoubtedly strong but this… She had never hunted anything quite so large before.

The grizzly bear snapped viciously. Its breath smelt of blood and decay. She wrinkled her nose and putting both hands around the bear's neck, she pushed with all of her strength.

The bear made a gurgling noise, pawing frantically at her granite face. Its claws didn't leave a scratch. The animal jerked twice more and lay still.

Rosalie sat frozen for a minute, terrified of moving. Careful not to breathe, she turned her golden head to the gasping form, lying prostrate a hundred yards away.

_Run,_ the little voice inside told her. _Run and maybe…just maybe he'll have a chance._

But Rosalie was sure he would not survive this, regardless. Even from a distance, she could see the extent of the damage. It was horrific. From where she sat, straddling the dead bear, she could see his right leg had been completely mauled, all of the flesh torn from the bone. His entire body convulsed with the shock of it.

_He's going to die anyway,_ the voice went on. _There's nothing you can do. Run. Don't disappoint your family_. She thought of Carlisle and Esme and Edward. _What would they do in her place?_

An inaudible moan came from the dying man and Rosalie was overcome with pity. Gritting her teeth and willing herself not to breathe in the glorious scent, she stood and walked towards him.

As she grew close, she felt the grass squish beneath her feet and saw she had stepped in a pool of the man's blood. Kneeling uncertainly, Rosalie lifted trembling hands to turn his head towards her. Miraculously, his face had remained untouched by the bear's angry claws.

Rosalie's mouth fell open in surprise. A fuzzy memory suddenly bright as a flashbulb…_Vera and Tommy and...and little baby Henry, his dimpled, freckled cheeks, the velvet brown of his eyes, the soft curl of his downy hair._ Rosalie took a sharp intake of air and instantly regretted it. The smell of the man's blood hit her fully in the face and she bit down on the inside of her cheek.

She was wishing desperately that she had not come back when she felt a hand squeeze around her own. Startled, she looked down to see his shaking fingers wrapped around her own icy, porcelain ones.

"Are…" the man whispered, his voice barely audible. "Are you…my angel?"

Rosalie stared straight into his beautiful, chocolate eyes and knew she could never leave this man here alone in the forest to die.

He coughed and licked his lips once before saying with some effort, "I…always hoped they'd send a pretty one for me. When it was time…"

"Sshhh," she whispered, putting a finger to his lips. "I'm…I'm here now."

The man, a hunter by his garb, reached his hand up to brush a stray curl from Rosalie's face. "It…won't be long now…will it?" he asked, wincing. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and temple.

Rosalie studied him for another moment and, without thinking, nodded, "No, it won't be long." Another moment and he was in her arms. She began to run.

The trees blurred by and the man smiled, a little wistfully. "Are we flying? Fly me up to heaven, angel." His fingers brushed her cheek again and then fell back against his chest.

"What's your name?" Rosalie murmured, gathering another burst of speed.

"Emmett," he whispered. "My name is Emmett."

"Emmett," Rosalie repeated, letting the name linger on her lips as she ran.

Seven hundred miles. Rosalie's heart sank. It might as well be seven thousand. If he survived his wounds, which was doubtful, he would not survive her bloodlust. She was foolish to attempt this. She would kill him. She would drink his blood. She would leave his body on the forest floor and no one would wonder at his death, practically ripped to shreds by a bear. Edward would never let her hear the end of it. Her perfect record…soiled. Some small part of her clung to her pride and it was enough to ignore the burning. For now.

Locked in her stone embrace, Emmett cried out and Rosalie's head whirled down to look at him in alarm. Had she jostled him rounding that last tree? His eyes were closed and his long dark lashes almost kissed the line of freckles that began at his cheekbones. He had a sweet, boyish face, despite his size. Rosalie guessed he must be close to her age, although he could have been older. Underneath the blood-soaked cotton of his shirt, his chest heaved as he took in large, painful breaths.

"Couldn't load…the rifle…in time," he murmured, feverishly.

She felt his hot, ragged breath on her throat and thought she must be going insane. Every inch of her longed to drink in the smell, the taste…the warmth. Fighting to keep from inhaling, Rosalie stumbled on, Emmett's limp body feeling heavier than it had before. In her two brief years as a vampire, she had not once experienced physical exhaustion, had not known a need for sleep. She had almost forgotten those sensations.

But the human feelings came rushing back as she flew through the forest, dreading the moment that would come. The moment in which she would lose her self-control and give in. A second passed and another. She waited almost impatiently for the end. But it never came. Instead, the trees became denser, thicker as she left the mountains of Tennessee and found herself in a wooded valley.

"It's…d-dark," Emmett said, his voice shaking. "I can't see you, angel. Are you still here?"

Rosalie bit back a hysterical laugh. Angel…angel of death, maybe.

His broad, handsome face looked so young and lost that she forgot the scent of blood and the fire in her throat.

"I'm here, Emmett," she whispered, impulsively. "I promise. No one is going to take you away from me."

And there was the moment. Rosalie bowed her head and ran on, vowing silently. She would not lose control until she reached the one person who might be able to save this man from the Angel of Death.

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In the study, Edward lifted his bronze head from his book. It was Rosalie. She'd gone farther than she should have alone but the tenor of her thoughts distracted him from this. Her mind was fragmented, frantic, and very loud. There was just one thought repeated, again and again. Edward stiffened as he heard it…_PLEASE,_ _PLEASE DON'T LET HIM DIE…_

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_**Author's Note: So that was a little bit of a repeat from "Made For You" but I'm interested in thoughts before I continue. Thank you for reading! **_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight Series is the exclusive creative property of Stephenie Meyer. I do not own any rights to it. This is a fan-based creation. **_

_**Author's Note: Thank you, guys, for the great response! I'm always so excited to hear from you! This chapter took way longer than it should have. I got stuck somewhere in the middle but I think we're fixed now. Here's the next chapter. Please review and let me know how you're feeling about it. I especially love to specific questions, suggestions, things you liked, things you're hoping for.**_

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"_But in my arms till break of day__  
__Let the living creature lie,__  
__Mortal, guilty, but to me__  
__The entirely beautiful."_

_-W. H. Auden_

_She had been foolish to attempt this._ Rosalie stood on the long white veranda, golden hair blowing freely behind her.

Esme appeared in the doorway, soft, caramel pin curls framing her worried face. "Are you alright, Rosalie?"

There was no response.

The older vampire tried again, "Edward told us you saved him from a bear. Is that true?"

Still nothing.

"You've done a very brave thing, bringing him all the way here," Esme said, true admiration in her voice. "I'm not sure I would have been able to…"

"It was nothing," Rosalie interrupted, coldly. "I didn't do anything."

There was a hurt silence.

Esme put a gentle hand on her adopted daughter's shoulder and whispered, "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. You did more than anyone could expect."

When Rosalie didn't reply, Esme smiled sadly and left her there.

_More than anyone could expect…except Emmett._

Rosalie scowled, remembering.

She had run seven hundred miles with the wounded hunter in her arms. Seven hundred. She'd jumped over rivers and under bridges, flown through tunnels and into forests. She had nearly reached Carlisle's waiting arms, could almost feel the cold edges of his fingertips, when something inside of her finally broke. Snarling viciously, she bent her head to bite the side of Emmett's neck. Strong arms wrapped around her, dragging her out of reach of the dying man. She fought them until she heard his voice.

Edward's cool breath was in her ear and his tone was steel, "Go on. Bite him. I knew you couldn't last without it."

He was challenging her, daring her, but Rosalie knew he would never let her get that far. She growled in frustration and stopped struggling.

Carlisle had carried Emmett into the adjacent room and already, the blood had grown fainter, had been replaced by the smell of antiseptic and sickly sweet ethyl chloride. Her last human image of Emmett was frightening…his skin ashen, his eyes wide with horror as he stared up into her snarling face.

Rosalie shook her head, trying to sort the mass of feelings piling inside of her. _Thirst. Anger. Bewilderment. Numbness in the absence of exhaustion. And…disappointment._ The look Emmett had left her with reminded her strangely of Royce King's face the night she had murdered him in his bed. _And she had thought…_Rosalie frowned. _What had she thought? That she would save a strange man from a bear and he would what? Be so grateful he wouldn't be angry when she had taken his life from him? That she had turned him into a monster?_

_She had been foolish to attempt this. _

Hours passed and Rosalie stood, frozen, staring into the growing dusk. A mosquito buzzed by her ear, not bothering to land on the cold stone it passed.

Inside, the agonized cries continued. She tried to shut out the sound, to focus on other night noises. Crickets, bullfrogs, the rustling of grass in the nearest field, tree branches rubbing together down the lane…anything but that awful, useless screaming. _So pointless_, she recalled. _So futile._

Edward was suddenly there in the doorway.

Rosalie didn't move.

"He's asking for you," he said.

Her stomach tightened strangely and Rosalie turned to face her brother on the porch. She met his gaze uncertainly, searchingly, "He…is?"

Edward nodded, eyeing her curiously.

"Why?" she blurted.

He shrugged, "I don't understand it, either. You only increase _my_ torment."

Rosalie glared and socked him in the arm, hard.

Edward fell back a couple steps, laughing in spite of himself. The corners of his eyes turned up in humor as he said, slyly, to her retreating back, "Oh, and don't think I don't know what this is. I wasn't good enough for you so you had to bring back a mauled, smelly hunter to keep you company. I don't have quite enough hair on my chest for you, is that it?"

"You don't have _any_ hair on your chest, Edward," Rosalie threw over her shoulder.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that," Edward went on, mockingly. "I'm sure mountain man in there has enough growing out of his nostrils for the both of us."

Rosalie gritted her teeth and kept walking. _Stupid, ridiculous, infuriating boy._

"I heard that," he called softly.

Edward ducked as Rosalie's hard leather shoe came flying towards him.

As she walked through the still house, she pondered Edward's words. _To keep her company…that hadn't really been her motivation, had it? _After all, he was dying. She saved him from a bear. She brought him to the only person who might be able to help him. _Had she really been that selfish?_ Images of Baby Henry flashed again through her memory and Rosalie wished silently that the hallway would stretch, grow longer, that she might never reach the end of it.

No such luck. She stood there in the darkness, willing herself to go in. There was a cry from inside the room and she sucked in another unnecessary breath. If he was awake through this torment, he would hate her. If he lost consciousness…well, he would hate her when he woke up.

_What had she done?_ The guilt felt like a great weight bearing down on her chest. Gathering what was left of her courage, she pushed open the thick oak door to Carlisle's study where he was bent over Emmett, his expression somber.

Emmett screamed again, in pain, and Rosalie noted the indentation in his neck where Carlisle had broken the skin. The faint scent of blood made her head swim with nausea and desire.

The doctor's face was strained but he remained composed, closing his eyes softly and reaching two fingers to press against his temple, as though he might have a slight headache.

Rosalie stared at him, jealously. _To_ _have that ability…to be so in control..._

Carlisle turned and smiled gently at her.

She dropped her eyes, embarrassed. _To have any control, at all, would be nice._

"And how are you feeling, Rosalie?" he asked, his voice low.

She shrugged, afraid to look at him. That last look Carlisle had given her was a sad one as he had scooped Emmett into his arms and borne him into the house without another word. _He must be so disappointed. _

Emmett choked back a small sob and Carlisle put a cool hand to the boy's forehead. "It won't be long now. His blood is quite weak and the venom is spreading quickly."

The man on the couch jerked involuntarily and whimpered, his eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling.

Rosalie winced at the sound but could not look away.

"He has been talking about you," Carlisle said, studying her conflicted face.

"Yes. Edward told me," she replied, numbly.

"Where did she go?" Emmett murmured, feverishly. His eyes had taken on a glassy quality and he continued to stare blankly ahead. "My angel…she was right here. She went away. Where did the angel go?" His voice broke.

Rosalie walked uncertainly towards the couch. Reaching out a trembling hand, she wiped away two hot tears that had rolled down his cheek.

Through the fever and pain, Emmett seemed suddenly conscious of her presence. He blinked several times and his eyes focused on her fearful face. "Angel," he breathed. "I thought you'd left me here."

Rosalie opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. She shut it again and shook her head, feeling dazed.

"You've saved me, haven't you?" he asked, again, even as his body convulsed.

"I…" Rosalie started and then stopping, turned to look at Carlisle questioningly. "Does he know?"

Carlisle nodded, "I told him. He's drifting in and out but I think he understands."

"I'm going to live forever," he said, gasping. "Like you, Angel."

Rosalie was speechless.

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As the painful hours passed by, Rosalie sat, unmoving, not speaking, Emmett's head in her lap. Sometimes he was conscious and would speak. Rosalie found herself strangely without words and instead, would nod or shake her head bashfully at anything he said.

"Angel," he asked once, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. "Does the fire go away?"

She pushed his damp brown hair from off his forehead and nodded.

"Then I can stand it," he said, gritting his teeth.

Carlisle looked in periodically to monitor Emmett's pulse and breathing. When he had made some notes in a small book, he would leave the room, but not before giving Rosalie a pleasantly puzzled look.

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On the evening of the third day, Rosalie finally left the study to hunt. She did not realize how hungry she had grown until the fourth deer had been sucked dry. She thought with pride of her own control these long hours. _Where had it come from?_

She recalled the feeling of Emmett in her arms, his weak blood running thickly through his veins, crying to her. She shook her head fiercely and the line of her mouth grew hard. _She was weak, after all…_

Suddenly, a chorus of strange, alarming noises claimed her attention and she turned back towards the house, quickening her steps in fright.

"Rosalie!" Esme said, hurrying to the porch. "It's done! Come quickly!"

Rosalie frowned as she leapt up the porch steps. _If it was over, done…there was no need to hurry now. Had something happened?_ A sick fear clutched at her as she stepped over the threshold and into the darkened hall.

There was a crash from the study and Carlisle came out, looking bizarrely frazzled, blond hair in utter disarray. "I'm afraid," he said, as another loud smashing sound came from the other room, "He doesn't quite know his own strength."

Esme gave a small gasp as something glass shattered.

Carlisle coughed delicately, "That would be your Tiffany lamp."

"Oh…" his wife said, sadly.

"Emmett ! Watch out for the--…!" Edward shouted from inside the room.

Crash.

The doctor winced, "And your _other_ Tiffany lamp."

"I suppose it wouldn't have been much of a set without both," Esme went on bravely.

Edward's voice grew louder as the breaking noises continued. "No, no, slow down! Stop! You're going to…"

Suddenly, there was a cracking, splintering noise and Edward flew through the door and into the hall, shaking the house to its foundation.

There was a gleeful roar and a newly whole Emmett came charging out after him, bellowing in pure delight.

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Author's Note: What do you think? Review and let me know. Suggestions, questions, predictions, and ideas are always welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight Series is the exclusive creative property of Stephenie Meyer. I do not own any rights to it. This is a fan-based creation. **_

_**Author's Note: This chapter took far too long to write. I have been working at a camp for the last three weeks and haven't had regular computer access. I'm back now and chapters should be up more often. I hope you like this. Review and leave your thoughts! **_

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"_We say we love flowers, yet we pluck them. We say we love trees, yet we cut them down. And people still wonder why some are __afraid__ when told they are loved.__"_

_-Author Unknown_

"Emmett!" Rosalie said loudly. "Stop that right now!"

Emmett, who looked bigger than he had lying broken on the forest floor, froze for a moment and turned towards her, his dark, red eyes curious.

Carlisle took advantage of the moment to take a step forward, "Emmett, you are stronger than you remember. And faster. You must try to slow yourself down."

Emmett considered this only for a moment before barreling across the hall towards Rosalie, his arms stretched toward her.

Rosalie felt herself tense instinctively for the impact before Edward was there, crouching in front of her, his sharp teeth bared dangerously.

The newborn stopped in his tracks, seeming almost confused by this new threat. "Angel?" he murmured uncertainly and the red of his eyes and the snarl in his throat could not disguise the new, musical quality of his voice.

"It's alright," Rosalie said.

Edward stepped to the side, his eyes full of warning as he stared up at Emmett.

"Slowly," Carlisle reminded the giant.

Emmett nodded and tried again, his steps hesitant, his concentration wavering. His dark crimson eyes met Rosalie's golden ones and his strained expression melted into another broad smile.

"Emmett, this is my daughter, Rosalie," Carlisle said, his voice formal. "She is the one who…"

"Saved me from the grizzly!" Emmett interrupted, not taking his eyes off Rosalie. He stopped right in front of her and reached out an impossibly large hand, "Emmett McCarty, ma'am. It's very nice to meet you."

Rosalie shook his hand, marveling at the whiteness of his skin…as white as hers. She looked up into his sweet, boyish face, where even the purple shadows below his eyes looked like laugh lines, and found herself smiling back…a shy, bewildered smile.

Emmett looked like he wanted to say more but a feeling of pain and terror had crept over his face and he let go of Rosalie to claw at his throat. He growled, loudly.

Edward tensed again.

"He should hunt," Carlisle said, looking towards his son.

"I'll take him," Rosalie said.

The rest of the Cullens turned to stare at her.

"Oh, you will, will you?" Edward's voice held traces of a deep sarcastic amusement.

"Rosalie, not alone," Carlisle said gently. "A newborn this…size will be hard to overpower, even by a large vampire. It is vital that we protect Emmett from himself."

"Myself?" Emmett repeated, still clutching his throat.

"Fine," Rosalie snapped. "I'll lead." She stormed past Edward and out into the open air.

Edward rolled his eyes and tugging Emmett by the sleeve, followed his sister.

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"It's quite simple," Edward murmured in hushed tones, his topaz eyes darting quickly to follow the movements of the deer. "It's a matter of precision. If you jump cleanly and quietly, you can easily overtake and… he's gone…"

Emmett was already tearing through the thick forest overgrowth, charging after the animal.

Edward caught Rosalie's gaze.

She pursed her lips tightly, a wobbly sound in her throat. She fought to stifle the giggle creeping its way up and failed. Tossing her golden head once, teeth glinting as she smiled, Rosalie leapt to her feet and followed Emmett deeper into the trees.

Edward sighed, "I think I liked her better when she didn't smile."

In the next half hour, Emmett caught and drained fifteen deer.

Rosalie stood nearby, unable to tear her eyes away as he sank his teeth into a small doe.

When Emmett finally lifted his head from the fallen animal, he licked his lips, grinning. "Angel," he nodded cordially to her, as if he were reading the newspaper at the breakfast table.

Rosalie felt a small pang of jealousy in the pit of her stomach. This was much too easy for him.

"Rosalie," she corrected, her voice hard.

"Hmmm?" he asked, lazily.

"My _name_ is _Rosalie_," she said, punctuating each word with a sharper glare.

Emmett looked surprised, "Of course it is, ma'am. My apologies."

Rosalie clenched her hands into small white fists. "Just…just see that you remember it," she said. Unable to say more, she strode off, her shoulder blades clenched tight under her white blouse.

Edward stood at a distance, watching the exchange, hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets. He frowned, hearing not only what she had said, but what she hadn't.

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The next two days passed in similar fashion. Emmett spent most of his hours hunting and the remaining few following Rosalie around like a kicked puppy hoping to be patted.

Rosalie did everything in her power to avoid Emmett, listening on the stair for his approach, exiting a room when he entered, and hunting in the few hours he stayed inside. Emmett's easy-goingness irked her. His wide smile and husky voice and big shoulders twisted her in uncomfortable knots. The vampire issue seemed to neither confuse nor upset him. In fact, he seemed…happy. Rosalie was not sure why.

It was an especially sunny afternoon and the Cullens had mostly gathered in the parlor where Edward was playing a waltz by Grieg, one of Carlisle's favorite pieces.

Rosalie sat in the far corner, nearest the window, feeling lonelier than she had in years.

The rest of the group stood near the piano, laughing and talking.

Emmett was slapping Edward on the back and the sound was like faint thunder.

Edward was laughing at the older boy, his starkly white pale face breaking into streaks of boyish smiles.

Emmett ruffled his hair and tried to shove him off the piano bench.

Esme scolded them both, her face still smiling. Carlisle put an arm around her and she looked lovingly up into his face.

Rosalie felt shriveled and angry at the sun that kept her indoors, excluded by her family all smiles and joy, annoyed by Emmett and his utter inability to be less than cheerful.

She was shaken from her litany by a whiskey-throated question.

"Miss Rosalie, what's _your_ favorite song?" Emmett's scarlet eyes were gentle with interest.

Rosalie wished she didn't feel so stirred by his voice.

"I…" she broke off, uncertainly.

"Rosalie doesn't like music," Edward said, sounding bored. His golden eyes bore into Rosalie's. "It reminds her too much of being human."

Rosalie felt the familiar ache of crystallized tears behind her lids, a vague reminder of her more mortal days. Edward's words stung, mostly because they were true. Unspoken…but true.

"Edward," Esme admonished, disappointed.

Edward was still looking at his sister.

She looked back at him, betrayal washing over her head and settling in her shoulders.

"Excuse me," Edward muttered as he stood and left the room.

Carlisle ushered Esme out, his face apologetic.

The parlor was silent for a long moment.

Rosalie started for the door, her head held high, red mouth pursed in a frown.

A hand caught her elbow.

She turned back to see Emmett, his expression unreadable.

"Let go of me," she told him, half-heartedly.

Emmett looked at her carefully, "No, ma'am. I think it would be better if you stayed here."

Reluctantly, she allowed herself to be pulled back towards him.

"You really don't like music?" he asked.

"No. I don't."

Emmett's face scrunched up as though he were trying to solve a very complicated problem. "Well, I guess we can dance _without_ any."

Without another word, he slipped an arm around her tiny waist and pulled her close. His other hand grasped hers and pulled her in a circle.

"What are you doing?" Rosalie demanded, feeling silly.

"I'm dancing with you," Emmett said, surprised.

"You can't dance without…music."

"I agree," Emmett grinned. "But you don't want any so…I guess this will have to do." He spun her out and caught her, pulling her even closer than before.

"Hmm," Rosalie said, looking up at him uncertainly.

There was silence for a moment as they completed another circle.

"Have I done something to offend you, Ang- I mean, Rosalie?"

Rosalie opened her mouth and shut it again.

"Because, if I have, I apologize. Sincerely," Emmett looked worried.

Rosalie considered this and shook her head, blond hair falling in her face.

Emmett let go of her hand and wound some stray curls around his forefinger. His thumb brushed the apple of her cheek. "You are…" he began, "The most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

He bent his head down, his lips quite close to her mouth.

Rosalie's head shot back, as she tried to pull away.

Emmett stopped, his eyes turning worried, "Well, there now, ma'am. I meant no offense." He let her go.

Rosalie stood still for a moment. Her mouth struggled to form the words. No sound came out. Her eyes stared helplessly at him before she turned, darting from the room.

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Author's Note: Review and give me your impressions, comments, questions, and predictions! Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight series is exclusive property of Stephenie Meyer. Any reference to Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn, or the mythology therein is her creative property. No plagiarism intended. This is a fan-created story. **_

_**Author's Note: Thank you, once again, for the thoughtful reviews! If you read this, please make sure to leave a note and tell me what you think. On with the chapter…**_

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_Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made  
For kissing, lady, not for such contempt._

_~William Shakespeare_

Edward sat, motionless, on the back porch step, night breeze blowing through his copper hair.

Silently, Rosalie joined him, her long legs hidden in baggy trousers as she rested her elbows on her knees.

"Are you wearing my pants again?" Edward asked, quietly, not turning to look.

"They're better for hunting," she told him, stiffly.

"I see."

They lapsed into silence again.

In the distance, she could see the outline of a deer darting into the forest. It was several miles across the open fields but Rosalie could the gentle thud-thud, thud-thud of its heart. It had no idea, no inkling of the death that waited for it in the warm night air. She felt a wave of sympathy for the animal and then frowned. Sympathy. How…unnecessary.

There was a slam as the screen door opened and closed and Emmett came out onto the porch.

"Hello, there! You two up for some fun?" he grinned, slapping Edward boisterously on the back. He turned to Rosalie with a smile.

She cast her eyes down and began picking at the hem of her sleeve.

Emmett stared at her, seemingly stuck. He turned back to Edward, the smile coming back to rest in his eyes. "Edward? What about you? Feel like a jaunt?"

Edward shook his head, "No, thanks, Em. Why don't you go on?"

Emmett shrugged and stood easily, "Alright, then. You two try not to do anything thrilling without me!" And he was gone, a blur over the grass.

In her ears, the heartbeat of the distant deer sped, sounding like thunder.

"What, exactly," Edward began, his face guarded, "Is your problem, Rosalie? Why are you so rude to him? What did he do?"

"Why are you calling him '_Em_?'" Rosalie shot back.

"That's what his brothers called him," Edward said, softly. "When he was alive."

She stared at him in disbelief. "So you're his brother now? Is that how this is for you?"

"You didn't answer my question. What did he do?"

"Nothing!"

"Really?" Edward stared into her eyes, his mind probing hers. He fell across the thoughts that she was trying so desperately to hide and his mouth moved in recognition.

"Don't you _dare_!" Rosalie shot up from her seat on the step. "Don't you _dare_ try and read my thoughts, Edward Cullen!"

Before he could say another word, she bounded off the porch and through the fields.

Edward stared after her, his eyes a mixture of confusion and disgust. "You'd think looking inside their minds would give you a clue but…it really doesn't," he whispered into the stillness. "It really doesn't."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………....

Rosalie stalked through the trees, her golden eyes turning darker with thirst as she smelled the buck, smelled him long before she saw him. As his extraordinarily large antlers came into view around the bend, Rosalie inhaled and let a small snarl erupt from her mouth. Hunting, feeding…something she could handle without Edward's "help." She was so intent on her prey that she didn't even sense the larger creature coming up noiselessly behind her.

Didn't notice until that damned, whiskey voice was in her ear, "Following me?"

Rosalie spun around and clocked Emmett in the chest, hard. Caught off his balance, he fell back a couple feet, making the ground around them shake.

She glared fiercely at him. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, tossing her hair and trying to look dignified. "Sneaking up on a lady like that? In the _dark_!"

Emmett was laughing too hard to speak.

"Stop laughing!" she said, furiously. "It's not _funny_!" She kicked at him.

Emmett did stop laughing and grabbed her booted foot in his large hands. "You're right. It's not funny. A vampire tracking a poor, innocent hunter through the woods!" he sounded indignant. "I cannot _believe_ you were following me! Miss Cullen! Were you intending to _feed_ on me?" He made a horrified face, a hand fluttering to his face.

"I…I…," Rosalie spluttered, at a loss for words. He was rude and infuriating and…funny. "I was _not_ following you! I…"

"Because it would be alright if you were," Emmett went on, a slow, mischievous smile coming over his face. "A pretty thing like you…"

Rosalie stopped struggling, her mouth opening and closing in surprise. She tried again, "Listen to _me_, you…you…"

"I take it back," he said, letting go of her foot and standing up to his full height. "A _beautiful_ thing like you…the _most_ beautiful thing."

"Stop that," Rosalie said, swallowing hard.

"Rose…" he murmured, his eyes dark and glittering with moonlight. He didn't move.

"Don't," she said, feeling her voice catch.

"Rose, please," Emmett tried again, still frozen as he watched her.

"Don't _call_ me that!" she cried, wildly. "No one calls me that!"

Through the veil of memory came the memory, the one she fought to push down, to threaten into silence, even now…

"_Here's my Rose!"_

_Someone grabbed her arm; in her growing confusion and panic, she could not see his face. She wrenched away from him. A fist hit her squarely across the mouth. She tasted something bitter and salty. Looking down at her dress, Rosalie noticed the angry, red drops dripping down the front of her gown. She stared, uncomprehending._

_And then everything began to swim around her as if in slow motion. Every sound was far away, even her own voice as it pleaded. She felt herself being pushed down on the street. Cigar smoke and the stench of liquor filled her nostrils. She was dimly aware of their faces, though she tried not to focus on anything, tried to force her eyes to glaze over. And then there was pain. Searing, horrible, terrifying. So much pain that Rosalie wondered how she could still be breathing. She hoped vainly that she might faint from it. Humiliation and degradation swept through her and, though she lay quite still, the tears flowed freely down her cheeks, stinging her face where the wind burned it. As the minutes passed, Rosalie tried desperately to leave her own body. She wondered vaguely if this was what it felt like to die. To lose the light…_

Rosalie felt a hand on her marble cheek. A familiar voice called her name. She closed her eyes and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. Venom flowed freely in her mouth and she had to choke it down.

"Rosalie?"

With a strangled sob, she fell against his chest, heaving.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry."

She was shaking so hard that Emmett trembled with the force of it.

"I'll never say it again, Rosalie. I promise. Never. Don't. Don't cry. _Please_ don't cry," Emmett pleaded helplessly. He brushed his lips against her temple, her forehead, the edge of her shoulder, over and over, his voice frightened.

Rosalie wound her arms tighter around his waist and buried her face in his shirt.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Hours later, the two lay propped up against a log, faces turned up towards the stars.

Emmett's brow furrowed as he spoke, "So that's why Carlisle changed you, then…" It wasn't a question.

She nodded, anyway.

He turned his face so that he could look at her.

Rosalie kept her eyes focused on the farthest star she could make out.

"And your name was Rosalie Hale," he repeated, again, grinning.

"Yes," she said, a little impatiently. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I'm just trying to imagine you. Being like any other girl. Dressing like your mama. Dancing at parties. Flirting with boys. Putting ribbons in your hair and perfume on your neck. Pretending you don't know what you look like."

Rosalie turned to him.

Emmett stared back at her, fascinated.

"Why?" she demanded, feeling strange under his gaze. "What were _you_ like?"

"Poor," he said, unashamedly.

"Poor?" Rosalie looked surprised.

Emmett laughed, "Poor. And ordinary."

"Well, so was I," she said, softly.

"Oh, no! Don't pretend a rich city girl like you would have looked sideways at me if I passed you on the street!" Emmett chuckled, good-naturedly.

"That's not true!" Rosalie protested. "I--…" She trailed off.

She and Emmett exchanged glances.

"Maybe sideways," she admitted finally, a small smile coming to her lips.

"But so you know," Emmett said, seriously. "If I had been there…"

Her throat tightened.

"If I had been there…" Emmett stopped, unable to go on.

She couldn't bite back the bitter retort, "You would have stopped it? Is that it?"

Emmett growled, sitting up, "Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Why do you keep pushing me away from you?"

"I do not!"

"Yes, Miss Hale, you _do_. "

"Maybe it's because you're a poor farm boy from Georgia!"

"Or maybe it's because you're a spoiled, little rich girl!"

"Hobo!"

"Snob!"

"I hate you!"

"I hate you more!" Emmett's mouth was on hers in the next second and his arms reached down and tugged her up against his chest.

Rosalie threw her head back as his mouth and teeth found her neck, a strange, icy hotness burning through her core. It was like…melting. This wasn't like any kiss from any ordinary boy. She made a soft, breathless sound in her throat.

Emmett cradled her cheek in his palm. "What did you say?"

"I said, 'Don't tell Edward,'" she whispered, gasping as she reached her lips up to his again.

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Author's Note: Thoughts? You know you want to review and tell me all!


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight series is exclusive property of Stephenie Meyer. Any reference to Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn, or the mythology therein is her creative property. No plagiarism intended. This is a fan-created story. **_

_**Author's Note: Oh, you guys! Thanks so much for all the great reviews! I really have so much fun hearing your opinions and advice. Please keep it coming! I hope you like this chapter. There's some fluff here (which I feel is highly deserved after so much angst). I've promised myself I'll finish this story by September 1**__**st**__** so look for some quicker updates in the next couple weeks! **_

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"_I lay my storms down at your feet  
Maybe you'll build a shelter,  
Maybe do my heart work for me._

_I do everything I should  
Still got to learn,  
How to be good."_

_-Minnie Driver, "How To Be Good"_

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………_..._

"You know…"

Kiss.

"Just because you…"

Kiss.

"Kissed me that once…"

Kiss.

"Doesn't mean…."

Kiss, kiss.

"I'll kiss you any time you ask."

Emmett stopped mid-kiss and smiled into her mouth, "I know." He bumped her nose with his, grinning. "I'm asking, anyway."

Rosalie couldn't help but smile up at him from where she lay, blond hair flung out behind her on the cool grass.

Emmett's face hovered over hers, his wide mouth never breaking its insistent smile.

"What?" Rosalie gave a short, uncomfortable laugh, squirming under his gaze.

"You really are the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Rosalie lifted her chin proudly, "Is that the only reason you like me? Because I'm beautiful?" Her golden eyes glinted up at him, her red mouth pursed with sarcasm.

"No," Emmett said simply. "That's not the only reason."

Rosalie's eyebrows raised in expectance. "Well? Go on."

"With what?"

"What else do you like about me?" she said, sounding out the words slowly as though she were speaking to a child.

"Well," Emmett began, teasing, "You certainly are bossy. And stubborn. In fact, I'm not sure you've ever heard the word 'no' in your life."

Rosalie smacked him.

"Come to think about it, what _do_ I like about you?"

She growled and shoved hard against his chest.

Emmett went on as if she hadn't moved, "I mean, no one can tell you what to do. But they keep on trying. And it has to be…" He shook his head, "Like fighting the wind."

"If you're just going to be rude, I'll go," she said, stiffly, starting to move away from him.

"But that's the thing, Rosalie," Emmett said, tugging her back against him. "I love the wind. It goes where it wants and it does what it wants. It storms around when it's upset and borrows its brother's pants without asking and rescues hunters from grizzly bears and runs hundreds of miles to save perfect strangers. Who wouldn't love something like that?"

Rosalie felt a hard lump in her throat. "You really love… the wind?" she asked.

He gave her a devilish grin and planted a kiss in the corner of her mouth, "Especially when she's busy blowing in people's faces and making a fuss about her hair."

"I think about other things besides my hair!"

Emmett chuckled.

"I do!"

"I know." He rolled over to lay on his back next to her.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence on the forest floor. High above them, a bird called to its mate and was answered.

"So did you ever tell Carlisle about those men?" Emmett asked, his voice curious. "About what you did?"

Rosalie shook her head, twirling a curl around her finger.

He smiled, "What I wouldn't _give_ to have been there!"

She snorted, "That's not how Edward feels."

Emmett shrugged, easily, "Maybe not." He grinned again, "But I wish I had seen it."

Rosalie allowed herself a small smile, "It was….very satisfying."

"How did you do it?" he asked.

She turned to stare at him in surprise.

"I mean…" he went on, eagerly. "Without…you know…blood."

The word seemed to ignite the familiar fire in her throat. She frowned, "I choked them. Or drowned them. Or smothered."

"I wouldn't have been able to stand it," Emmett said, honestly. "I don't even like to pass one on the road. Can't imagine getting that close. Sometimes…" he sounded ashamed, "Sometimes I can smell them and I…I want them. So bad. You know?" He looked hopefully at Rosalie.

She nodded, her mouth tightening involuntarily. "But we can't," she whispered. "Never."

"Never," he repeated, trying to match her resolved tone.

"It's strange," she said, absently. "I don't know that I've ever felt that…alive. Not more than in that moment. They were so…_afraid_. Of _me_."

Emmett turned on his side to look at her, "What are you thinking about right now?" he asked, curiously.

Rosalie studied him for a moment, indecisive. She looked down, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. "My hair," she admitted softly, at last, sounding a little ashamed.

Emmett's laughter broke the afternoon air.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Keeping things from Edward proved to be every bit as difficult as Rosalie had expected. Particularly when she discovered she simply could _not_ keep from thinking about Emmett. Ever. Every time he entered the room or accidentally brushed her shoulder in passing, Rosalie felt her senses heighten. Her hearing, sight, even sense of smell seemed to grow sharper, more prickly and alive than any of her twenty human years. The tips of her fingers, the ends of her hair, the soles of her feet felt like they had grown extra nerve endings overnight. She wondered if this was the vampire version of a quickening pulse.

Edward could hear the tension in her thoughts and would occasionally look over at her from where he sat reading or playing the piano. And she would hastily think of something else.

She had taken to silently reciting animals she liked to eat. The list was short. She'd always been a picky eater. _Deer. Fox. Elk. Bear. Deer. Fox. Elk. Bear. Deer. Fox. Elk. Bear. _She reluctantly added on a couple she could tolerate if very hungry. _Rabbit. Squirrel. Ugh. Badger._

It was three afternoons later when Esme cheerfully remarked, "Emmett really seems to be adjusting well, don't you think?"

"I would have to agree," Carlisle said. "This lifestyle certainly seems to suit him."

Rosalie felt the air around her hum. Even the sound of his _name_ now? She clenched her teeth in frustration.

Edward's head lifted from his anatomy textbook.

_Oh, hell. Deer. Fox. Elk. Bear. Dear. Fox. Elk. Bear. Rabbit. Squirrel…um, what came next...damn…Giraffe. Elephant. Rhinoceros. Orangutan. Parrot. Grizzly Bear...Emmett. Kissing Emmett. Oh, nuts…_

She looked over at her brother whose head was once again buried in his book, looking for all the world as if he hadn't heard a thing. Then the corner of his mouth twitched. _Bastard._

Rosalie stood hurriedly and throwing her embroidery into an empty chair, practically bolted from the room.

"Oh, dear," Esme looked worried. "I really hope she and Emmett are getting along. I thought they would have been fast friends by now but she is so sensitive about him."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Edward said, looking bemused as he stared out the window. Rosalie and Emmett were practically flying for the woods, their hands wound tightly together. "They seem to have…resolved their differences."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The days continued to pass them and weeks turned into a month and then another. Emmett and Rosalie spent every second together.

Carlisle's brow would knit in old-fashioned concern when the two would disappear for hours in the forest and emerge at daybreak, tousled and dirty from underbrush.

Esme would chide him, smiling and giving Edward knowing, conspiring glances.

Edward himself said little but Rosalie would sometimes catch him staring, his brow furrowing with curiosity as he watched the two of them, Emmett's mouth on her ear, whispering and occasionally, catching the skin with his teeth. She thought, for the first time ever, that he looked very young, maybe even…innocent. For once, Edward actually seemed seventeen.

The moment her mind would dwell on this, he would scowl and turn away, embarrassed at being caught. _Strange._

"I love you," Emmett blurted out, breaking into Rosalie's thoughts.

Her head snapped up and she stared at him, surprised, "W-what?"

He was rocking back and forth on his heels as he watched her expression carefully. "Well? What do you think?"

Rosalie looked at Emmett, his curly brown hair slightly mussed, the white work shirt and faded suspenders not able to disguise the shape of his chest, the definition of his arms. His eyes had finally begun to fade into a dark gold. She admired the shape of his mouth that so easily fell into that confident grin.

She smirked, trying very hard to hide the catch in her throat, "Of course, you do."

"Can't hide anything from you, can I?" he said, backing her up against the split rail fence.

"Nothing." She could feel his cold breath on her face. Nothing had ever felt so good.

"Marry me," he said, his mouth pressed to her temple.

"Thought you'd never ask."

"Snob," he murmured, parting her lips.

"Hobo," she insisted against his mouth.

And then words became unnecessary.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

"A wedding!" Esme clapped her hands in delight. "That's wonderful! Oh, Rosalie, I've been hording catalogues for weeks! I knew it!" She threw her arms around her surrogate daughter, "I am so happy for you two! Where-where's Emmett?"

Rosalie couldn't stop the smile spreading across her face, "He went to hunt. He'll be back soon."

Esme nodded, distractedly, as she smoothed her dress and glanced around the room, "Well, there's so much to do! We have to speak to the minister and there are flowers and invitations and your trousseau…your DRESS…oh, Rosalie!"

Carlisle chuckled and put an arm around Rosalie's shoulders. "I'm so pleased for you both." He kissed her cheek softly.

No one seemed to notice Edward slip silently from the room.

"Were you thinking a spring wedding?" Esme asked, anxiously. "The lilacs will be in bloom in May. It would be so lovely to have the ceremony in the garden!"

The two women chattered animatedly about every detail of the event they could manage to conceive of until a noise caused them pause.

There was the sound of a door slamming and everyone looked up to see Emmett had entered the parlor. If it was possible, his face seemed whiter than before.

Rosalie twirled to beam at him, happily, "Em, Esme has some Belgian lace for my gown!" Her smile faded as she caught sight of his face. "Emmett?"

Emmett looked as though he were going to be sick.

"Emmett, what's wrong?"

"Are you alright, son?" Carlisle asked.

The boy kept his eyes trained on the floor. "I…" He swallowed hard.

"Excuse us," Rosalie said quickly, grasping Emmett's hand firmly and pulling him from the room.

Their feet made no sound as they crossed the meadow grass. The wind felt wild against them as they ran. They didn't stop until they reached the edge of the woods. There was a long deadness, the two of them standing at a distance from one another.

"What's happened?" Rosalie said, finally, the words sounding hard-edged and alone in the stillness.

He didn't say anything.

She drew in a short, unnecessary breath. He was different. A different man she had saved from the grizzly bear. A different man had kissed her under the trees. A different man had proposed marriage this afternoon.

"Tell me. Emmett? Tell me!"

Nothing.

"Did I…did I do something?"

He shook his head, not looking at her. He was trembling.

"Then _what_?" Rosalie pleaded, winding her arms around his neck. "You can tell me. Please, please tell me."

"I... couldn't… help it. I… couldn't help it," he repeated, as if the words would make more sense a second time.

"What do you mean?" her face grew tight with worry. She put her hands on either side of his face, her fingers running through his hair. "Emmett?"

"It's all my fault. Broke the promise," he said, looking past her. "Never…"

"What, Emmett?" she shook him, his large frame barely moving. "What did you do?"

"I killed her, Rosalie," he whispered, frightened. "I killed her." And then he looked directly into her face.

She gasped as she realized what was so different. Emmett's eyes were a bloody red.

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_**Author's Note: Okay, you know what time it is! That's right. Review time. See you in Chapter 6!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: The Twilight series is exclusive property of Stephenie Meyer. Any reference to Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn, or the mythology therein is her creative property. No plagiarism intended. This is a fan-created story. **_

_**Author's Note: I apologize for my extended hiatus from this story. I've just begun the latest and greatest of my adventures in higher education: GRAD SCHOOL. It's been an intense month and I haven't had the brain cells available to write anything worth reading. Thanks to everyone for their continued reading and reviewing! A special thank-you to the great people who wrote to check on me. I really appreciate it! It's always a joy to hear what you think and a privilege to share with you. I hope you have fun reading Chapter 6! A special thank-you to Stephenie Meyer for some of the most attractive and enjoyable characters in contemporary fiction.**_

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"_You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your __rose__.__"_

_-Antoine de Saint-Exupery_

"I don't know what happened. The smell…a-and the wind…the heat…I couldn't stand it. I could hear her heart squeezing and the scent was so…I've never smelled anything like that, Rosalie. Never."

Rosalie swallowed and tried to focus on what Emmett was saying to her. Her mind wandered again and again to his words, replaying them like an off-kilter phonograph. _I killed her, Rosalie. I killed her. I killed her, Rosalie. I killed her. I killed her, Rosalie. I killed her. _

"One minute I was walking past and I saw her. She was hanging something on the end of the clothesline. Nightgowns. And they smelled so… and then she was in front of me and my teeth were in her neck and I …" Emmett sounded horrified at his own re-telling.

Rosalie struggled to keep her voice from shaking. "Go on."

"I looked at her face. Just for a second. Just to see…" He sounded as if his heart would break. "She was old, older than my mother was when I left home that morning. The morning the bear found me."

She couldn't think of a thing to say. Rosalie tried to force his words into a shape that made sense. _To kill, to feed... Was there a difference?_ Some unwanted faces surfaced in her memory. Faces like Royce King's. She shivered. And then suddenly, she was angry.

"And I killed her! What _am_ I, Rosalie? How could I _do_ that?" Emmett's face was tortured.

Rosalie shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak and shut it again. Pursing her lips a long moment, she finally lifted her face back to his, defiantly. "Who cares?" she said, the corners of her mouth tightening.

"What?"

"I said, 'Who cares?' So you killed someone. _I've_ killed someone." Rosalie shifted her weight from foot to foot, balling her hands into fists. "We're vampires. All this…eating animals business is just… fighting nature."

"Rosalie..." Emmett's voice was shocked.

"You said it yourself. She was old. You couldn't help it. There's no point in being sorry forever."

"But you said—…"

"I know what I said." Rosalie tossed her hair, her eyes glassy and cold in the moonlight.

"You don't believe it's wrong?"

"Wrong…right…what does that _mean_? If you had told me three years ago that I would be turned into a vampire by the Cullen family, I would have laughed in your face. I don't know what I believe anymore." She looked a little lost. "What do you believe?"

Emmett hesitated. "I believe in you. And if good things like you exist, God must exist, too."

She put a hand on his cheek, uncertainly.

"What do we do?" he asked.

She sighed, "We have to tell Carlisle."

As they flew back over the grass, stopping just shy of the porch, they became aware of Edward's slim frame where it leaned against a pillar.

"Come to lecture?" Rosalie found herself snapping.

Edward rolled his eyes. "That would be pretty damned hypocritical of me, Rosalie, wouldn't you say?"

Emmett looked surprised.

Edward nodded in his direction, smiling thinly, answering the unspoken. "Oh, much, much worse than you. Ten a night, sometimes." His eyes glinted darkly. "There is nothing like it."

Rosalie broke in, impatiently, "Has Carlisle heard, yet?"

Her brother shook his head.

Emmett looked very small inside his gigantic body.

"I promise," Edward said, ruefully. "After having me for a son, nothing you say will shock him."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Carlisle spoke, breaking the long and heavy silence, "Of course, this is not what we hoped for, Emmett."

Emmett kept his eyes on the ground. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"The change is a difficult one, I know," the doctor went on, gravely. "And the most difficult skill to master in this new life is restraint. It requires discipline and endurance and great discomfort. I realize that what I ask of each of you is, in all likelihood, impossible. And yet, we attempt it, all the same."

The corners of Esme's eyes turned down with sadness as she watched Emmett's face.

"But do not think, Emmett, that I do not understand."

The boy finally gathered the courage to meet Carlisle's eyes.

"I have lived many years. Too many years to not feel the pain and weariness you feel. Many of our kind simply give into it. But you, my son, are made of better stuff than most. You can be different."

Beside Emmett, Rosalie swallowed the lump in her throat and squeezed her fingers tight around his. Neither of them had missed the inflection Carlisle had placed on the word, 'son.'

Carlisle continued, "The next order of business is to care for the family. I have met them once or twice. There is a granddaughter who lives on the property."

Emmett flinched.

"I have instructed Edward to speak to an attorney at law who practices in Rochester. He will set up an anonymous trust fund which shall be entrusted to her nearest legal guardian."

Edward and Emmett stared at one another and Edward shook his head.

"Secondly, there is the matter of the body."

Esme's hand fluttered helplessly to her mouth.

"Fortunately," Carlisle did not look as though he thought it was fortunate, "A vampire attack looks very much like a wild animal. I do not think there will be much investigation beyond that. However…" He paused and looked around the room at his family. "It may be time to consider a change. A new home."

"Leave?" Rosalie blurted. "Leave Rochester?"

"Leave New York," Carlisle corrected. "Our time is growing short, regardless."

"Where?" Esme asked, her voice quiet.

"Edward and I scouted some territory in Washington State a few months ago. There's a little town, Hoquiam. The climate is ideal."

Rosalie glanced at her brother in surprise.

"Well, it will be a change," Esme said, trying to smile.

Emmett winced, ducking his head again. "I'm…I'm sorry," he said, the words tasting bitter as they left his mouth.

Carlisle nodded. "As am I. Our mistakes serve to remind us of our humanity. I suppose we can be grateful for that." He squeezed Emmett's shoulder reassuringly. "An eternity is a long time to live with such guilt. There is a time to sorrow. And there is a time to forgive. Even yourself."

The next few days were a flurry of activity as the Cullens prepared to leave Rochester. It had been decided that an overnight disappearing act from the town physician would cause too much stir. And so it was carefully leaked that due to Mrs. Cullen's health, the family had decided to move to a more temperate climate. California was the story. Rosalie had never visited California. She very much doubted she ever would.

She was relieved to find that Emmett seemed to easily put the events of the previous week behind him. He was quick to regain his boyish smile and charming, loafing posture as he followed her to the car, his arms full of trunks and hat boxes. It was only in the rare moments of silence that she would catch him with that look. He looked…old. The second he caught her staring, though, he would break into a sunny smile and plant a loud smacking kiss on her cheek.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The dawn was just breaking when the top of the three-story white house came into view, giant trees running its length and tall, lush grasses extending almost up to the front porch. Thick forest surrounded the house on all sides, making the home's slightly peeling paint seem a starker white in contrast.

Rosalie pushed the car door open and stepped out on the dirt road.

Behind her, Emmett stood, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Well…" he said, glancing up. "It's big."

"It's lovely," Esme said, beaming at her husband as they walked up the steps. "And it would be a beautiful place for the wedding."

Emmett gave Rosalie a nudge with his shoulder. She smiled, her sharp cheekbones bending into softness.

Above them, the morning sky was a comforting, misty gray.

"See? This place was made for us!" Esme clapped delightedly. "How did you find it?"

Carlisle was pleased. "Edward found it. We took a different route towards town and came across it. It's been vacant for several years. I've inquired at the bank about purchasing the deed."

The floorboards barely squeaked as the Cullens stepped over the threshold and into the house. Directly ahead, the staircase wound up to an enormous landing.

"I'm going to pick my room before Edward takes the best view," Rosalie announced, starting up the stairs.

"Don't you mean _our_ room, Mrs. McCarty?" Emmett said, chasing her.

"Not _yet_, it's not!" she squealed, trying to dodge him as he reached out to pinch her.

"You two behave!" Esme said, trying to sound stern.

"Yes, ma'am," Emmett said, saluting and trying to suppress his dimples.

Rosalie smacked him and he lifted her in his arms, carrying her up the stairs as he sang the wedding march, "Da-da-DA-da…Da-da-DA-da…Da,da,da, DA, da –dada-da-DA-DA!"

They disappeared on the second floor.

Carlisle chuckled, "I think a wedding may be in order."

"Sooner rather than later," Edward muttered.

Esme smiled, gazing out the great bay window again, "And won't it be beautiful?"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

EPILOGUE

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue," Rosalie looked around the room frantically. "What am I missing?"

"Nothing," Esme said, smoothing the gossamer veil again with soothing fingers.

"Is the minister here?"

"Yes, he's waiting in the parlor."

"And Emmett? His suit fit him?"

"Like a glove."

"Is my hair alright?"

"It's lovely!"

Rosalie stared out the window, gloomily, "It's raining. I never thought it would rain on my wedding day."

"It's Washington. It rains every day."

There was an impatient knock on the door.

"Yes, who is it?"

"Are you almost ready?" The voice sounded annoyed.

Esme opened the door, "Edward…"

Rosalie whirled to face them both, "What? What's wrong?"

"Well, other than the fact that the guests have been waiting for half an hour and the ceremony hasn't started…"

"I'll just go and make sure the refreshments are lasting," Esme said, hurrying to the stairs.

Rosalie stood looking at Edward, her face still uncertain.

Edward waited, expectantly.

"What?" she asked, crabbily.

"You want me to tell you how beautiful you look."

"Don't be ridiculous," Rosalie sniffed, tossing her hair. "I know what I look like."

"You look beautiful," Edward said, his eyes crinkling.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, before finally looking up at him, "I do?"

"You already knew that," he said, pulling the veil down over her face.

Rosalie bit her lip in a strange moment of uncertainty, "Do you…do you think Emmett will think so?"

Edward eyed her for a second, his expression unreadable. He answered, finally, reluctantly, "He'd have to be blind not to."

She opened her mouth to say something and shut it again.

He walked her slowly to the top of the stairs where Carlisle stood waiting.

She flashed him a wide, confident smile as she hooked her arm through her surrogate father's, "Regretting anything, Edward?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he smirked, buttoning the top button of his vest as he passed her on the landing.

The opening of strains of Lohengrin came from the record player in the hallway.

Carlisle patted her hand proudly as they walked down the stairs and out into the garden where tall white canopies had been erected. The guests, mostly local townspeople curious to catch a glimpse of the doctor's strange, beautiful family, sat on either side.

All the flowers Rosalie had selected had been cut and arranged. All the ribbons and lace hung with care. Even the Parisian silk tablecloths she had long coveted. And still, all she could really seem to see was the straight path to Emmett, who stood towering over the reverend.

His eyes met hers and he grinned, still boyish despite his frame and clothes.

She tossed her head once more and someone in the crowd gasped. It was no wonder. Rosalie's figure was accentuated fully in the ivory silk gown trailing behind her for yards. Her white skin was in sharp contrast with the golden pin curls covering her head and the deep red of her mouth as it curved into the most modest smile she could manage. _She had been foolish to attempt this._

Emmett straightened proudly, grasping Rosalie's hand firmly as Carlisle placed it in his own.

"Marriage," the minister began, "That most sacred union, which brings together those which God hath joined in love…the angels themselves rejoice in thee today, most lovely day…"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_**Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Please review and let me know what you think of the end. Stay posted for a new story! Anyone have a story suggestion or idea, feel free to comment!**_


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